Warehouse 13: (Part II) The Distance Between
by A Rhea King
Summary: After pursuing an artifact, Pete becomes ill and his symptoms progressively worsen. The team search for any artifact that could have caused this, but Myka believes this is something else. Time begins to run out as she races to find the answer. OC alert!
1. Chapter 1

Warehouse 13

"The Distance Between"

By A. Rhea King

_Chapter 1_

Pete knew he had just arrived in this all too familiar place. The dusty gray floor, the light from above with no apparent source, the impenetrable blackness circling the light, these were as familiar as his own bedroom. He sighed and scrubbed his fingers over his head.

"Why am I here this time, Genna?" Pete asked.

He was tired. He hated this place. It reminded him of a horrific three months in his past. There were strange, terrifying noises in the darkness. Dreaming of this place every night kept him from good sleep. That left him tired and short-tempered, which in turn caused stress on all the relationships in his life.

There was no answer. He looked up. She stood across from him, holding her hands in front of her. Her expression was deadpan.

"Genna, why am I here?"

Her bottom lip slacked as she started to say something. Then she wilted and crumpled to the floor. Pete froze. That hadn't happened before. He started toward her.

"Do you really want to go to her?" someone asked him.

Pete stopped. That was a fair question.

"So now you want me dead, huh?" Genna asked.

Pete jumped. She was standing next to him, staring at the 'dead' version of herself. She turned her head, glaring at him.

"You do remember you're under hypnosis, don't you? And anything goes under hypnosis, including killing the person you freed."

"This is a dream," Pete told her.

"No. No it isn't. You never listen to me!"

Confused, Pete looked between the two Genna's, trying to figure out which was the hallucination.

"You are with a psychiatrist, and no, no one else knows. You asked her to help you stop dreaming about me. She suggested you try hypnosis. But it won't work because this is real and until you get back the memories of who I am."

"I don't know who you are!" Pete bellowed.

"You do, Pete. You know who I am."

"No, I don't," he said between gritted teeth. "Why do you keep bringing me here?"

She threw up her hands and let out a growl of frustration. "I am not the one bringing you here, Pete Lattimer! It was _your_ wish. _You_ made it. _You_ keep bringing us here. That is why I have been searching for a way to break this bond between us because you are dragging me down with you!" She started crying. "And I am so tired, Pete! You bring me here, you leave me here, and then I don't get anything close to good sleep and I… I am so tired. I just want to sleep, Pete. Don't you?"

"She isn't dead?" the invisible stranger asked.

Pete was annoyed by that voice. He watched Genna cry, feeling guilty but not sure why. And yes, just one night of good sleep was all he wanted too. He reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. She didn't move closer or step away. She did, however, pull herself together.

"That voice is the psychiatrist, Pete," Genna told him.

"I want out of this," Pete said, turning away from Genna. "This isn't working. I want out."

"You have to confront her, Pete," the psychiatrist told him.

"You have to get your fucking memories back!" Genna said.

"Language!" Pete snapped at Genna.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck," Genna repeated with a sneer. "I'm too old for this crap!"

"You're fourteen!"

"I'm ten thousand years old!"

"You don't act it."

"You don't act your age. I get that from you."

Somewhere 'My Humps' started playing.

Genna smirked. "That's Myka's ringtone. This attempt to exorcise me is over." Genna turned her back on him, her long hair swirling out to brush his arm. The sensation felt real. Pete looked at the crumpled version of Genna.

She blinked when he heard a cell phone start to ring again. Dead Genna told him, "Pete, answer your phone. You don't want Myka finding you here. She already think you're hitting the bottle again."

"She does not!" Pete told her.

"Does to," the Genna with her back to him said. "They all are wondering it right now."

"Neither of you know anything!"

Genna looked back over her shoulder. "Just wake up and get to Moose Jaw. Go find an artifact Pete." She turned her head, adding softly, "I'm always proud of that Pete."

That stung. What parts of him wasn't Genna proud of? Pete made a conscious decision he was done with this for now.

#

Pete sat up on the couch he had been lying on. It took him a moment to get his bearings. The office didn't look familiar right away, but his memories came back. This was the first time he'd been in the office, his first – and soon to be only – meeting with a psychiatrist.

"Pete," he heard her say behind him.

He made eye contact. She was a beautiful woman with long dark brown hair. Her glasses improved her look, making her look more mysterious then academic. Her expression showed great concern.

"I didn't bring you out of hypnosis, Pete," she told him.

Pete stood up, grabbing his coat. His cell phone started to ring again.

"I have to go. Thanks for trying." He headed for the door.

"Pete."

He stopped to turn around. She stood up. It caused her clothes to shift down, and under normal circumstances, he'd be moving in to convince that body to spend the night with him. But Genna was haunting his mind and she was affecting choices like that.

"You should come back," the woman told Pete.

He smiled. "Again, thanks for trying."

He was out the door and on his way to his SUV before the conversation could continue. He answered his cell phone when it started ringing again.

"Yes, Myka, I know I'm late. I will meet you at Leena's in fifteen minutes."

She sounded really frustrated when she said, "I should be used to this by now."

"I'm sorry. I'm… sorry."

"Hurry up. Artie was expecting you to meet for the briefing; you don't want to be here when he comes back."

"On my way." Pete hung up.

He exited the building into the South Dakota cool winter day. Snow sat in patches on the ground and his breath frosted on every exhale. Pete dug for his keys and climbed into his SUV. He sat for a couple of minutes, trying to find a calm place. It didn't take him long to realize he didn't have one right now. So he started the engine and headed back to Leena's instead.

#

Pete and Myka found their seats on the plane.

"Can I have the window?" Pete asked.

"No. I want it," Myka told him

"I want to sleep and if I take the window you won't have to wake me to go to the restroom."

She looked back at him, and then nodded.

Pete stored their carry-on bags and slid into the window seat. He laid his head back, feeling tiredness leech into his bones. He gave into it by closing his eyes.

He felt Myka sit down in the seat next to him. She let out a heavy sigh.

Pete was almost asleep when she said, "Don't you want to know what the assignment is? You haven't asked since you showed up at Leena's."

Pete's eyes drifted open and he turned his head. She was staring at him.

"No. You can brief me when we get there… There… Where are we going?"

"Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan."

The world stopped moving. His mind seized on the city name.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

Pete didn't answer.

Myka looked away, sighing again. "Should I get you a _drink_?" she quietly snapped.

Pete's mouth went dry. Why was this happening to him?

"I am not drinking, Myka," Pete told her.

She didn't say anything. Pete leaned in, clutching her arm. She looked into his eyes.

"Myka, I swear on my life, I am not drinking. Please don't think that."

She looked away. "Then how do you explain everything?"

"What everything, Myka?"

She stared at him for a long moment before her expression softened.

"Get some sleep, Pete. You look tired."

Pete didn't move. She patted his hand.

"Get some sleep. We'll go over the assignment when we get there."

Pete sat back, staring out the window. His eyes didn't stay open long enough to watch them leave them leave the terminal.

**Fast-Forward 1 Week**

**Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan**

Pete was in close pursuit of the artifact thief. He was younger than Pete, but Pete had miles of running on him. The two turned into an alley blocked by a fence. The young man quickly scrambled up boxes and over, but in doing so lost some of his distance ahead of Pete.

The two men raced through a commodities Warehouse. The man grabbed boxes, carts, even people, throwing them in front of Pete to try stopping him. Pete blocked falling items, using handball strokes to send the rain of porcelain figurines, squeaky toys, cheap plastic toys, and cast iron knock-offs flying away from him.

The two men burst onto the loading dock of the Warehouse. The young man leapt off and raced out in front of a truck. The truck skidded to a stop to avoid hitting him. Pete ran along the loading dock until he found a better place to leap off. It closed the gap between them considerably. The man ran into another alley.

Pete leapt at the fence, grabbed a hold half way up and flipped over the top. He felt a piece of the metal cut into and down his hand. He landed on both feet and felt like he was losing his grip on something. He glanced at his bleeding hand before he lurched forward, in pursuit. The pain in his hand became a forgotten memory.

Ahead Pete saw his chance to stop this once and for all. With precise executed parkour moves, Pete leapt from the cement to springboard off the wall onto a dumpster lid. He leapt across the dumpster, grabbed the bottom rung of a fire escape ladder, swung out, and crashed down on the man.

Pete grabbed the man's coat, making sure he hit the ground first. It didn't really help Pete. In a tangle of body parts the two rolled along the cement. Pete's right arm slid through glass, slicing open his jacket and allowing the skin to slide along the cement. He felt the knee of his jeans rip and gravel ground into the skin.

He was suddenly overwhelmed with a free falling sensation compounded with intense fear. His hands scrabbled for something to stop his fall. The feeling ended with pain stabbing his right side, knocking the wind out of him. His vision darkened and he was sure he was about to pass out.

When his senses returned, He discovered he had a death grip on the thief's arm and his other arm was so tight around the man's throat he was nearly choking him. Myka was trying to pry Pete's arm away from the man's throat. Pete let go and let Myka take over.

She crouched in front of the man, holding one arm at an angle that it would snap if he dared to fight. He seemed to sense that and held still.

"Hi," Myka told him. "Now, as I was trying to tell you in your apartment, we're here for the amulet."

"I didn't steal nothing!" the man insisted

Pete stood and had to grab a hold of a dumpster to keep from falling from the strong wave of dizziness that washed over him. It brought with it a strong urge to vomit.

Myka glanced at him, but stayed focused on the thief.

"You didn't steal anything," Myka corrected, "And you did. It was an amulet that was in a thrift store. The store has video surveillance and we watched you steal it. Now, all we want is the amulet. We don't care about anything else."

Realizing he was on the losing end, the thief told her, "It's in my shorts."

"Really!" Pete said. "You couldn't have chosen a pocket or something?"

Myka smirked as she stood. Pete tried to look at them but the dizziness made six of them and intensified the nausea. By the time it passed, Myka was bagging the amulet and the man was running again. This time they weren't chasing him.

"Let's go home, Pete."

Pete leaned over, propping his hands against his knees. The nausea slowly passed.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. I really hit the pavement when I caught him. It's not setting all that well."

"Did you know your hand is bleeding? And your chin, arm, knee... You're a mess. Is there any part of you not bleeding?"

"Yeah. My toes. Hey, did you get to see those awesome moves I made?"

She laughed. "You know what would have make it more awesome next time?"

"What?"

"Learning how to land and not practically choking the next guy."

"Ha-ha." Pete put his hands on his sides as the pain intensified a little.

"You okay?" Myka asked again. "You're a little pale."

"Side stitch. I haven't had one of these in a while. Just need to walk it off." The two started a slow stroll back to the SUV at the end of the alley. "Why do they always have to run?"

"Instinct, I think."

"Instinct?"

"They're guilty, usually, so they run. They think we care where they got the artifact from."

"We should start tranquilizing them as soon as they answer their door."

Myka shot him a look.

"Not like knock them out. Just enough to make them simmer down, sit down, and hear us out."

She smiled. "Okay. That's not so bad, then."

Pete grimaced when pain stabbed his right side.

"You okay?"

"I'm bleeding. Why do you keep asking me that?"

"Baby."

"Right, well, you, I jumped, and there was, and—" Myka started laughing. "Oh shut up!"

She laughed harder. "Do you need help into your seat? Do I need to get a ramp for you?"

Pete waved her off as he walked around to the passenger side. He climbed into the SUV and leaned back against the seat. The world began spinning again and the pain had grown a little more. Myka climbed into the driver's seat.

"Should we get something to eat?" she asked as she backed out of the alley.

Pete closed his eyes. "Maybe later. I just want to take a hot shower and sleep."

She put the SUV in drive and headed back to the hotel. "You sleep a lot during the day lately."

He didn't answer. She looked at him, finding he was already asleep. She frowned, but let him sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter 2_

"Myka."

She squinted her eyes open, listening.

"Myka," the voice repeated. Pete's voice.

She looked at her clock. In Moose Jaw it was 3:14 AM.

"Go to bed. She wasn't that into you," Myka called out.

There was a long silence. She guessed Pete hadn't been able to sleep so he had gone to the bar for a snack and soda, hit on some woman, and she shut him down. Now he wanted Myka's shoulder to bleed his heart to.

"P… Please Myka."

Myka lifted herself up on an elbow, looking toward the door. That did not sound like broken-hearted Pete.

"Pete?"

He didn't answer her, but she heard soft knocking on her door.

She flicked on the bedside lamp and blinked until she could see. The knocking hadn't stopped. Myka jogged around her bed and threw open the door, expecting Pete to be standing in the door. Instead he was kneeling and had been leaning against the door. Myka dropped to her knees, catching him in her arms before he hit the floor.

"Oh my God! You're burning up!" Myka told him.

He said something but it sounded more like a soft moan. She tried to lower him on his right side and he tried to push himself up and off his side. That's when she remembered his pain from earlier. She helped him lay on his left side. On this side the hall light revealed a very sick man. He was soaked in sweat. His skin was a sickly pale tinged with yellow. His lips were purple from lack of oxygen. Both of his hands held his right side. She pressed her hand over his.

"Is it your side stitch?"

"It's not… Not…"

"Not a side stitch. Yeah. I gathered that. How bad is it, Pete?"

"I can't… Catch my…"

"You can't catch your breath?"

He barely nodded. "So… Hot."

"Okay. I'll be right back. I'm going to call the front desk for an ambulance and I'll be right back."

Pete didn't even try to respond, and that's when she knew things were really bad. Myka stood, grabbed the suitcase stand and threw her suitcase across the room. She propped the door open with the stand and ran back to the phone. The call was answered in two rings and she didn't let the person get a word out.

"I'm in 234. I need an ambulance immediately. Do not think about it. Hang up the phone and call for one right now."

The phone line went dead. She threw the receiver back in the cradle and with shaking fingers dressed in yesterday's clothes. She grabbed a blanket and pillow and ran back to Pete. She gently put the pillow under his head and covered him. Myka raced around her room, grabbing her purse, her cell phone and charger, and her coat, and came to a sliding stop next to Pete.

"Pete."

He didn't answer.

Myka laid down by him, watching his face. He panted, shallow, rapid breaths, and was shivering as rivulets of sweat rolled off of him. She wrapped her hand around his. Pete wrapped his fingers around her hand and his grip was a little painful, but she didn't say anything.

She barely heard him whisper, "It… hurts."

"What does?"

"My… Side. Right… Side."

"It's probably just bad food. I'm sure it's nothing, Pete."

Pete barely nodded.

With her other hand, Myka reached out and combed his wet hair back. She laid her hand on his cheek, imagining the coolness of her skin felt good. Pete didn't object.

She would never remember how long she laid with Pete, waiting with a twisted gut for the paramedics to arrive.

#

Artie filed a card in the catalog, looked at the next and filed it. He had been filing for hours and wishing he had an intern to do this. When his cell phone rang he looked back the device sitting on his desk. That was strange. Everyone was in the field and had Farnsworth communicators. Artie walked over and picked it up. MYKA displayed on the screen. He tapped the answer button.

"Myka, why are you calling me?"

"Yes. Pete and I are still in Moose Jaw, and—"

"What? No. You two need to get back here, I have another assignment." He glanced at his watch. "You missed your flight." He sighed. "I'll have to book you another one."

"Artie, Pete is—"

"I know it seems like we have a ton of money, Myka, but I do have a budget. You two cannot miss this flight or you will have to figure out how to get back on your own."

"Artie, it's—"

"Have I made myself clear?

"Artie!" she burst out.

The two were silent. Artie waited, not sure how they were supposed to continue now. He wasn't used to Myka shouting.

Quieter she continued. "We are at the hospital in Moose Jaw, Artie. Pete woke up in pain this morning, and running a high fever, so we came to the hospital. He was just taken back for X-rays and one of the emergency room doctors ordered several blood tests."

"When did it start?"

"I think after he tackled the guy that had the amulet. He got up and mentioned his side ached, but he thought it was a side stitch. I didn't think about it when he turned me down for dinner, not with… How he's been acting lately."

Artie ignored the last comment. "Did he touch any other artifacts?"

"I don't know. I know he chased the guy through an import Warehouse. Maybe he touched the amulet. But you said that this artifact makes people cat burglars. That's all it does, right? You told us that was all it did—"

"Myka. Myka." He waited for her to stop talking. "The amulet only makes people really good cat burglars while it painlessly steals their soul. This is something else. Okay, here's what we're going to do. I'll reroute Steve and Claudia to Moose Jaw to start looking for any artifact in the area that could have caused this." Artie rolled over to a pad of paper and pen. "I need you to tell me all of his symptoms. I'll call Leena in and we'll see if we can't find anything here in the Warehouse that might have caused this."

Myka cleared her throat, got a hold of herself, and ran down Pete's symptoms.

"Good. Good. Myka, you are my pillar, do you know that? I trust you to hold it together, and I know that's hard to do right now, but that's what I need from you. I need you to hold everything together. We will figure out what's hurting Pete. Okay?"

There were a few sniffles and a quiet, "Okay."

Artie nodded. "Keep me posted, dear."

"Thanks, Artie."

He disconnected, and then he let his worry show. He got up and paced a few times. He looked down at Trailer, who lay on his bed watching him.

"This isn't good. This really doesn't sound like an artifact." Artie sat down, watching him. "This sounds… Real."

The dog whimpered a little, putting his head on the bed.

"I know. I shouldn't have lied to her, but… They're my kids. Sometimes you lie to protect your kids."

The dog got up and walked over to him. Artie patted the dog's head.

#

Myka paced the waiting room, unaware she was chewing her thumbnail.

"Miss Bering?"

She spun around. A blonde woman in her late forties stood behind her. Behind a young man half her age waited to be addressed. Both were dressed in scrubs and wore lab coats, but only the blonde's lab coat had a name embroidered on it: Dr. A. Johnson. She approached Myka, extending her hand.

"Doctor Anissa Johnson."

"Agent Bering. What is wrong with Pete?"

Anissa motioned to some chairs nearby but Myka shook her head.

"What is wrong with my partner? Just… I have to make calls to get him state side."

The young man looked between the two, and he looked confused. Anissa, on the other hand, showed no emotion. Not right away.

"I understand your concern about your partner, Agent Bering, but as for moving him, that isn't happening. Not until I know what his illness is."

"Yesterday we were chasing a suspect, he tackled him. He probably cracked a couple ribs and—"

"It is _not_ cracked ribs." Anissa paused, as if she dared Myka to correct her.

Myka didn't. The remark intensified her concern for Pete.

"Your partner," Anissa began, "has a high white blood cell count. His fever has reached 39.4 since he arrived and he is not responding to any medications to reduce it. I've ordered cold intravenous fluids and icepacks, and if that doesn't work, we'll try an ice bath. I don't know what is causing his pain. His X-ray showed no broken bones or abdominal obstructions. I have ordered a CAT and MRI. This could also be a viral or bacterial disease. And until I've cleared him of any infectious diseases, I will not release him. _You_ may be willing to recklessly risk people's lives, Agent Bering, but I am not."

The last time Myka felt this little by someone telling her 'no' in a very direct way, she was twelve, and it was her father. She had learned then that in these situations, staying silent was best.

"Now that's cleared up," Anissa glanced back at the young man. He stepped forward. "This is Doctor William Arkoty, an intern studying under me. He will keep you apprised of changes and let you know when you can see your partner." Anissa turned on her heel and left.

The intern tried a couple times to speak to Myka.

"Please leave me alone," Myka told him.

The intern did. Myka resumed pacing.

#

Myka strolled down the hall, staring at the floor tiles. She had walked every hall she was allowed on in the small hospital, but it didn't ebb her worry. She looked up as she turned into Pete's room, and stopped inside the door.

Artie was leaning over Pete with a device aimed at Pete's head. Leena stood close by, staring at Pete.

Myka walked over to a recliner and curled into it, silently watching Artie. He stepped back, doing something to the device and handed it off to Leena. She offered Myka a smile as she walked over to a blank wall. She drew a door and stepped into what looked like a hotel room. The drawing of the door disappeared behind her and the wall was solid again. Artie sat in the chair next to her.

"That's Ramon Llull's mind map recorder; it records specific memories. It uses Dr. Maimam's holograph technology to make a rudimentary display. Looks a lot like the first films." Myka didn't respond to this new knowledge with her usual interest, so Artie quietly added, "Leena, Claudia, and Steve are going to retrace Pete's chase."

Myka nodded.

"We just got here. Is there any news on his condition?"

"His white blood count is very high, his fever is going up, and his doctor can't find any physical reason why he's in pain. Last I knew, she was testing for infectious disease, but since he was put in a room, I guess that turned up negative." Myka wiped off a tear.

Artie looked back at Pete. He was having a hard time seeing Pete hurt and being unable to make it end. Artie reached over and put his hand over Myka's. She moved her hand so she could hold onto his fingers. The two weren't foolish enough to try convincing the other Pete would be okay – that would only happen if they found what was causing his pain.

#

A trail of purple followed Claudia, Steve, and Leena. Nothing had been spared a squirt of neutralizer. The three came around a corner and stopped, staring at a busy avenue of trucks backing up to an import Warehouse. Men and a few women hustled to move boxes in and off the trucks, obeying the shouted orders from a man standing on a riser.

"Those are international stamps on those boxes," Steve said. "If he touched something in one of those, it could be anywhere in the world."

Leena pulled out the memory recorder and turned it on. A hologram showed Pete chase the man up onto the dock and disappear on the other end.

"We have to look anyway," Leena said. "You two take the Warehouse; I'll pick his trail up on the other end of the dock."

The three separated.

Leena walked to the end of the dock and used the device to check her path. The chase went around the corner of the building. She started slowly toward it, squirting anything that could be an artifact. At the corner, she saw a fence blocked the alley. She used the device to watch Pete and the man use boxes and a dumpster to go over the fence and continue the chase.

She climbed up the boxes and closed the dumpster lid so she could walk over to the fence. Nothing looked strange here. She sprayed the fence but there was no reaction. She started to turn when she spotted blood on the fence. There was nothing unusual about it, nothing that really made it stand out. The hologram hadn't shown anything strange about the blood, other than Pete pausing on the other side of the fence to look at his hand – she knew he had cut it but it wasn't infected.

What made her pause was how strange Pete's behavior was becoming. She thought about how short-tempered he had become. She considered how she had searched his room for evidence he was drinking only to come up empty handed. For the last eight months, any night she'd come downstairs for a drink of water, she found him sitting in the dark, looking ready to fall asleep, but doing everything he could to prevent sleep. The others had been whispering, talking about him drinking again. She had almost given into that gossip, but something nagged at her. Something just was off about that theory. Now, staring at that holograph of Pete staring at his cut hand, was making her instincts kick in.

"Did you find something?" she heard Claudia ask.

Claudia and Steve walked up to the fence.

"I hope not," Leena said.

She got a good grip on the fence and leaned out with the spray bottle. She spritzed the blood.


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter 3_

Myka and Artie stared at the television on the wall, but neither was really watching it.

"I wish Vanessa would come back and tell us something," Myka said.

"When she knows something, she will."

They fell silent again.

Both looked up when the door opened. Leena, Claudia, and Steve entered. They kept in a tight knot. Myka's intuition immediately sent up red flags; they found something.

Before she could speak, Artie asked, "You didn't find anything, did you?"

The door opened before they could answer and Vanessa entered the room. She offered a kind smile to the group.

"I'm glad you're all here," Vanessa began, "I have some news about—"

"Pete is the artifact," Leena said, interrupting Vanessa.

The room went silent. The heard monitor and hiss of oxygen were loud. Every short, shallow breath Pete took was audible. The morphine drip sighed as it released a dose of the opiate analgesic into Pete's blood.

"How… How did you find this out? How can you be sure?" Artie asked.

Myka focused on him. Why did he sound so scared all of a sudden?

"We followed his trail to the fence where I found blood. Because of his behavior: acting nervous and jumpy, staying up night after night, I—"

"Pete hasn't been sleeping?" Artie asked.

"He hasn't been for months," Myka answered.

"Has he told any of you why he isn't sleeping?" Vanessa asked the group.

The women shook their heads.

Steve answered, "On our last assignment together, that's when I noticed it. We shared a room the first two nights. I'd wake up in the night and he'd be gone. Then the staff started complaining about him wandering the hotel at all hours. I asked him what was going on and all he told me was he kept having a nightmare. That's when he got his own room and he shut me down when I tried to bring it up again."

"Arthur, if Pete isn't sleeping he'd be suffering from chronic fatigue," Vanessa told him. "The symptoms would look the same as alcoholism."

No one voiced surprise that Artie had thought Pete was drinking again – they were just as guilty of thinking that..

"And the good news is I found no signs of alcoholism."

"Let's go back to you think Pete is an artifact, Leena."

"I don't think, I know. When I sprayed the blood on the fence it reacted to the neutralizer."

"How do you know it was his blood?"

"He went over the fence in the holograph."

"That's hardly infallible evidence. There could be something under the blood; something from an artifact."

"I know what would be infallible evidence." Vanessa left the room. She returned with a fistful of items. She walked over to Pete and did something with his hand. Finished, she dropped something in the sharps bin and approached Leena. She held out a piece of gauze with a spot of blood on it.

Leena took it and sat it down on the window ledge. The group gathered around. Leena sprayed the blood and with one spray, the blood reacted. For several minutes, sparks flew into the air and the gauze danced on the ledge. When it subsided, the blood looked untouched, while the gauze was purple from the neutralizer.

The room was silent for several minutes.

"That is—This is so bad," Artie said. "This so very bad."

"We just have to find what changed him and neutralize it," Myka said.

"This is much different than an artifact affecting a human," Artie explained to her. "This is… He, Pete, is the artifact now. There is no neutralizing and changing it back. Whatever changed him is very, very powerful, and neutralizer simply isn't strong enough to reverse the change."

"When a human is turned into an artifact, does this happen?" Myka thrust a hand at Pete. "Does it slowly kill them with phantom pain and a high fever?"

"No. I've never seen this happen when a human was turned into an artifact. I've seen them go crazy, become violent, sink into depression, and eventually just self-destruct, but never this."

"They blow up?" Claudia asked.

"No… They start using drugs, or commit suicide, go on a homicide spree until they're killed, or… They drink themselves to death."

The last possibility silenced the agents. Pete had worked so hard to recover from being an alcoholic, and now fate was going to try thrusting it back into his life, try destroying everything he had worked to rebuild.

Vanessa cleared her throat. "If this isn't causing Pete's pain, Arthur," Vanessa said, "that means there is something out there that is and we have to find it, don't we?"

"Yes. We do. Claudia, go back to the Warehouse and see if you can dig anything up. Leena, collect Myka and Pete's belongings and get us rooms at the hotel down the street. Steve, take the holograph recorder and go over Pete's chase again."

Artie stopped giving orders but no one moved.

"Go! Go!" Artie snapped.

Leena and Steve left the room. Claudia drew a door on the wall and returned to the Warehouse.

"I need to do something," Myka told him.

Artie laid his hands on her arms. "You, Myka, have the most important job. Pete is your partner, you cannot leave his side. When he wakes up, keep him updated – you know how he gets confused with technical jargon so tell him what's happening. Make sure he's comfortable. And most importantly, alert Vanessa to any changes. Even the slightest ones."

Myka nodded.

"I'm guessing you haven't eaten since yesterday. What can I bring you?"

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not. When you get worried you don't eat. What can—"

Myka retreated a step.

"What?"

"I remember Pete telling me that once, but it was like from a dream."

"Maybe it was. I'll bring you a salad. Vanessa and I will be back in a little bit, okay?"

Myka nodded.

Artie left with Vanessa.

"I'm sorry this is taking so long. I can't find anything physically wrong with him, Arthur."

He smiled. "I know."

"You're doing a good job keeping them busy with assignments, even if it is futile."

"This is an artifact."

"You know it isn't."

"It has to be, Vanessa. This has to be an artifact, something he's bonded with. We'll find it, neutralize it, and then deal with the worse news."

They stopped at an elevator and Artie tapped the button. He looked up at her when she took his hand.

"No human artifact has ever been saved, Arthur," Vanessa told Artie.

Artie just looked away. "Yes, well, no human artifact was Pete. We chose him for a reason; he is stronger than it is."

Vanessa almost commented, but instead she smiled when Artie looked at her. She just nodded, and looked away.

#

Pete opened his eyes. Sensations occurred simultaneously and individually. First was pain and heat, on its heels weakness and fatigue. His head throbbed to the beat of his heart. He tried to get a full breath a couple times before giving up – the pain wasn't going to let him expand his lungs and diaphragm to get that.

He had a facemask for oxygen, there was an IV in his arm, and he heard a steady beep of an EKG monitor nearby. The blurry world spun, threatening to make him nauseous. He turned his head, closing his eyes.

"Pete?" He was relieved to hear Myka's voice.

He opened his eyes when she picked up his hand. Her hands were like cool clothes wrapping around his.

Pete struggled to get a breath to speak.

"Relax. I'll catch you up on what's happening," Myka told him.

He nodded twice.

"No one knows what's wrong with you, yet. There's been X-rays, a CAT and MRI scan, and there were no tumors, injuries, ruptures, nothing. Yet, you have this fever and pain. Your first doctor ran a lot of tests before Vanessa arrived. She's ordered a lot more test. But we have found something… We didn't plan on finding."

Myka hesitated, looking away. Pete squeezed her hand and she looked back at him.

"What…" Pete wheezed, "Was… Found?"

She held tighter to his hand. "Leena was retracing your chase and found some of your blood. When she sprayed it with neutralizer, it reacted. Something has turned you into an artifact."

Pete closed his eyes, trying to comprehend what she was saying. He barely shook his head.

"How?" he whispered, "bad… Can that… Be?"

"Really bad. Artie says most people don't survive the change."

Pete closed his eyes but couldn't stop from crying. He felt Myka's hand on his arm.

"Call… Mom."

Myka cocked her head. "You want me to call your mom?"

Pete nodded.

"Well, if Artie thinks the Regents need to know—"

He was shaking his head before she even stopped. He squeezed her hand tight when he felt tears welling up. One rolled out.

"Please… Call… Mom."

Myka didn't speak for a moment. He felt her lean over him and one of her cool hands moved to his head.

"I would want mine too if I were going through this. I'll be back in a few minutes."

Pete closed his eyes when the pain flared up. A soft gasp escaped and his hands went to the spot. He felt Myka's hand on his wrist.

"They gave you a morphine button. Should I push it, Pete?"

He nodded.

"Here it comes."

He looked up at her and smiled a little. "Thank you."

She nodded. "Yeah."

As the morphine overpowered him, Pete began to drift away. He heard Myka tell him, "We'll figure this out. You aren't going to die."

#

Jane Lattimer sat in the sun, reading her Kindle. Occasionally she sipped her tea as the world in her novel revolved around her. She looked up when the doorbell rang, then turned back to her novel. A few minutes later, it rang again. She sat her Kindle on the table and walked through the house to the front door. She found Claudia standing on the front step and smiled.

"Claudia, how nice to see you."

Claudia didn't return the smile. Instead, she suddenly began acting nervous.

"Hi Mrs. Lattimer. Uhm… I have… I need you to come with me to…"

Jane didn't need Claudia to finish. This was about Pete. "Is my son dead?"

"No. He's sick and he's asking for you."

"I can catch the next flight out."

Claudia pulled a piece of chalk from her pocket. "I have a faster way, Mrs. Lattimer. Grab a bag."

Jane ran upstairs to her bedroom to throw together a bag for an unknown stay.

#

Myka was curled up in the recliner, staring at the empty bed, when Jane, Claudia, and Artie walk in.

Before they could think the worst, Myka told them, "Vanessa ordered an ice bath after he had a seizure from the fever." She turned her head, wiping a tear away.

Jane left the room. Artie walked over to Myka, sitting on the arm of the chair. He put his arm around her shoulders. She leaned in, laying her head against his chest.

"He's getting worse," Myka whispered. "Artie, this can't be normal."

"I'm going back to keep looking," Claudia told them.

Claudia pulled out chalk and drew a door on the wall. She grabbed the handle, opened it, and stepped out of the room into the Warehouse. The door shut behind her and the drawing disappeared.

Morosely, Myka told Artie, "She isn't going to find anything."

"We don't know that."

"This is not an artifact, Artie! I've never seen an artifact act like a normal injury. I mean… His pain is like he has broken ribs, but there are no breaks and if there were, it wouldn't explain his fever. A person doesn't get a fever, not a high fever, when they break ribs. This can't be an artifact."

Artie didn't comment.

She let the silence go, deciding it wasn't important to hear his opinion right now. What would arguing change?


	4. Chapter 4

_Chapter 4_

Pete became aware of someone gently washing his face with a cloth. He heard water and he felt cold. The person began wiping his hair, soaking it with each stroke. He opened his eyes, staring at the ice water he was submerged in up to his chin. He still felt like he was on fire, his vision was blurry, and his mind was foggy, but the water did dull the pain and it did make it easier to breathe. He couldn't remember the last day he was able to get a deep breath.

"Do you remember when you had pneumonia?" he heard mother asked. She appeared where he could see her, smiling at him. In one hand she held a washcloth.

He barely shook his head.

"You were four, and such a little talker." She leaned out of sight and continued soaking his head with cold water. "But when you had pneumonia you just laid still and quiet. You were so hot and wouldn't sleep, but you hardly cried. You laid in my arms and you just watched me. When I gave you cool baths you never fought them – that's how I knew you were really sick. You hated baths until you were six."

He felt her kiss his head. He leaned his head into it and she pressed her cheek against his head.

"I love you, sweetheart," she quietly told him.

Pete closed his eyes, enjoying the simple pleasure of the cold water and knowing his mother was nearby.

"Did you want me to call Amanda?" Jane asked.

"No."

"She would want to be here. She still cares about you."

"That's exactly why I don't want you to call her."

"Pete—"

"Amanda has her life."

"But she—"

"I have the people I need here now. Please, mom. Please, don't."

Jane laughed softly. "You have a strange family, but okay. I won't call."

He heard a door open and someone walked up to the tank. A hand was placed on his shoulder, under the water.

"Pete," Doctor Calder said.

He almost opened his eyes. "Yeah?"

"We're going to pull you out of here in a few minutes and you're going back down to imaging. We're going to take another look at your kidney. It's swollen, but we can't tell why."

Pete didn't care. He nodded once.

The door opened and closed. He was alone with his mother again.

The pain suddenly drilled into his side and his mind swam.

"I wish dad were here."

"Why is that?" she asked.

"Artifacts die, momma. You need dad."

Jane stared at Pete, confused. "You… You said that to me when you were four, when you were sick."

"Yes," Pete murmured as he slipped away into unconsciousness. The straps in the tub held him up again, keeping him from slipping under the water.

Vanessa returned with a gurney and two nurses. She moved out of the way, staring at Pete, stunned.

#

Pete opened his eyes, staring at the light overhead. This was where he met Genna in his sleep, but it felt like years had passed since he'd been back. He felt fingers brush against his arm.

"Pete," someone said.

Pete turned his head. Genna lay on the floor with him, watching him. She reached out, laying her fingers over his. She looked as sick as he felt.

"Didn't know dreams got sick," Pete said.

She almost smiled. "I'm hurt."

"You are? How did you get hurt?"

"I was climbing this mountain near Iquitos. I lost my balance and landed on my side. I know I broke ribs but something else is wrong. I'm in this horrid hospital; I think I'm going to die here. I'm sorry Pete."

"Sorry for what?"

"That I'm going to die and take you with me."

Pete shook his head, looking back at the light. "You're a dream. It doesn't work that way."

"Oh God, you… Oh Pete!"

He looked at her horrified expression. "What?"

"Did you get hurt? Did…" She held up her hand that had several red spots on it. "Did you cut your hand? Was this you?"

Pete lifted his hand up, the one he'd cut on the fence when he was chasing the thief. The cuts mirrored red spots on her hand.

"Yeah."

"Did you skin up your side and knee catching someone?"

He dropped his hand. "Yes."

She wormed her way closer. She laid her hand on his face. Tears sparkled in her eyes and then across her face as they began to fall.

"We are out of time, Pete. You _have_ to remember me. I wanted it to happen on its own because any other way… I don't want to go back in the teapot, Pete, but I can't lose you either. You're the closest thing I have to family. Get the teapot you brought back from Seattle and look at it or touch it or yell at it, just do something with it. It's the key but I don't know how you need to use it."

"I don't understand."

"We're like conjoined twins."

"The teapot? From Seattle?"

"Yes." Genna laid her head on his shoulder.

"We're conjoined… Like twins."

She didn't comment.

"Where is Iquitos?"

Genna didn't answer.

#

Pete opened his eyes and heard the end of hearing something crashing in the hallway. Something metal made a whir-whir sound as it spun to a stop.

Pete moved, looking for a call button on his bed. He had to see the teapot.

Someone moved in the room and then Myka appeared.

"Hey," she said as she took his hand.

"Mykes… I… know what—"

"Your kidney is swelling, but they don't know why. It doesn't appear to be bruised or injured."

Pete gripped the bedding under him, forcing through the pain. He had to be able to talk. "Go back… To the Warehouse. Get the teapot… We brought back… From Seattle… And bring it… To me."

Myka stared at him.

"A genie cannot fix this, Pete."

"No genie. I need to… See it. I need to… Remember something…"

"Remember what?"

"I don't know. Please… Bring me that teapot."

She looked uncertain. Pete reached out and wrapped his fingers around her fingers. She was so cool, it felt so good.

"Don't you… Trust me… Anymore?" Pete asked.

Myka's face showed her confliction. She looked away, but her fingers tightened on his. She watched something for a long moment before looking back at his face.

"Okay. But when this is over, you are explaining everything to me. The not sleeping, the strange behaviors, all those ghost pains…"

Pete barely nodded.

Myka let his hand go and disappeared from sight.

#

Leena sat with Jane in the waiting room. Both women had cups of cold coffee in their hands and were consumed by their own worry to speak. Leena looked up at Myka when she ran up to her.

"Give me your Harry Kellar chalk," Myka ordered.

"What?"

"Give me your chalk. I have to go back to the Warehouse."

"Claudia is—"

"I really don't have time to debate this, Leena. Give me your chalk."

Leena dug into her coat pocket and handed a piece of chalk to Myka. Myka turned and rushed off.

"What was that about?" Jane asked.

"I don't know…" Leena sat her cup down on a side table, picked up her coat and purse, and followed where Myka had disappeared.

Jane was behind her.

In the hall, Artie and Vanessa were talking and watched as the three women disappeared back into Pete's room. Suspecting something was about to happen, Artie followed.

In Pete's room Myka stopped at a bare wall and drew a door and handle.

"Myka, you shouldn't—" Leena started.

But Myka was already through the door and coming out in the Warehouse office.

#

Claudia turned when a breeze kicked up and watched Myka walk through a door in the wall. Beyond it she saw Artie, Leena, Jane, and Vanessa stared after her – and they looked as confused as she was.

"What's going on?" Claudia asked as she turned her chair to watch Myka rush past.

Myka didn't stop to answer. Claudia jumped up and ran after her. She never realized how fast Myka could walk until she was trying to keep up with her. Down the stairs to the floor and across the Warehouse they went. Claudia tried to ask what was happening until she was too winded to speak. Myka glided through aisle after aisle, clearly set on a mission. They reached the aisle of genie vessels and Myka stopped, looking at them. Myka searched the shelves as she pull gloves from her jacket pocket and pull them on her hands.

"What… Are we… Doing here?" Claudia panted.

"Find the teapot that Pete and I brought back from Seattle."

"Wh… Why?"

"Find it, Claudia."

Claudia walked to a terminal and entered in information. She came up with a number.

"Aisle 257, we're in it. Shelf B. Location 22."

Myka went to the location and stared. "This isn't it."

Claudia trotted down to her. Sitting in that location were two very large vases – also genie vessels, but they were definitely not the twelve inch high gold teapot described in the computer. The two searched the rows but they didn't find the teapot.

Not right away.

"Myka, I found it," Claudia said.

She turned. Claudia was right back at location 22. Myka walked over and Claudia pointed between the vases. Pushed clear to the back, hidden behind an ornate hanging lamp and a dozen censer's of varying sizes, hid the teapot.

"Why is it all the way back there?" Myka asked.

"Good question. Better question. How do you plan on getting it without launching a genie invasion in the Warehouse? I count fourteen vessels between you and it."

"Get me a broom."

Claudia was impressed. She went off in search of a broom and returned with it. With a mouth twisted from concentration and effort, Myka brought the teapot forward inch by inch until it was in safe reaching distance. She sat the broom down and picked it up, looking at it.

"Is that causing Pete's sickness?"

"I don't know. He's asking to see it though."

"He's not going to make a wish, is he? Because we all know how those turn out."

"No."

Myka looked at the teapot. She opened the lid. She always expected a genie, like in 'I Dream of Genie', but they were always empty inside. This teapot had a gray, dusty bottom. She put the lid back on, focusing on the diamond handle embedded in the lid.

"There's something about this teapot that is so… Familiar."

"Did you and Pete bring it back together?"

Myka shook her head. "It's something else. I feel… Guilty, holding it."

"And you're wearing gloves. Maybe that's what turned him into an artifact."

"Get us tawiz amulets."

Claudia went to the end of the row and took two tawiz amulets from a box. She returned, handing Myka one. Myka put one on, made sure Claudia had one on, and then pulled off one glove. She put her hand against the teapot to rub it and the world turned upside down on her. Images and conversations bombarded her. Memories that had been pushed into her subconscious returned with brute force. All the feelings and sensations she'd felt from the time she misused this teapot, to the moment Pete permanently prevented anyone from misusing it again, became clear and easy to recall.

When it was over, Myka found herself kneeling on the floor. Claudia was pushing her up by her shoulder with a worried look. She was winded and her head hurt. She looked into Claudia's eyes.

"There's no genie in this lamp," Myka told her.

"That's impossible. It's—"

Myka got up and jogged over to a wall. She pulled the chalk from her pocket and drew a door.

"Where are you going?"

"I have to go back. Pete needs this teapot."

"Myka, your nose and ears are bleeding," Claudia told her.

Myka didn't stop. She grabbed the door handle and pushed the door open, stepping through space back into Pete's hospital room.

#

Jane, Vanessa, and Artie turned when the door in the wall opened. Myka pushed between them, focused on getting to Pete.

"What is going on, Myka?" Artie asked.

"Pete has to get his memories back."

"What memories?" he and Jane asked.

Myka stopped moving, watching Pete. His eyes almost opened and he stared at her. She smiled.

"The memories of Pete saving the world," Myka answered. "This is going to hurt. Are you ready?"

He barely nodded. "Ready," he whispered

She picked up Pete's hand and pressed it against the teapot. Pete gasped. His heart raced, setting off the alarm on the EKG monitor. Overcome by surprise and pain, he gagged and gasped for each breath. But he didn't let go of the teapot. He curled his fingers around the diamond handle on the lid and the golden handle, holding it in his shaking hands.

The alarm brought several nurses and another doctor. Vanessa was quick to meet them at the door and shoo them outside.

Pete's hands dropped. Myka caught the teapot before it rolled off the bed. His racing heart quickly slowed. His breathing steadied, although still short and shallow. Blood trickled from his nose and ears.

Myka took the teapot away and sat it on the bedside table. She pulled a Kleenex from the box and wiped the blood away. His eyes drooped close and minutes passed.

The EKG alarm stopped and was replaced with a rhythmic beep. Myka laid a hand on his shoulder, giving it a light shake.

Vanessa came back into the room, shutting the door behind her.

"Pete. Pete, you have to wake up. Pete."

His eyes almost opened.

"Pete, wake up. I need you to look at me."

"Whatever that was," Vanessa began, "he was weak before, Myka, this has made it worse. Let him sleep."

"He doesn't have time to wait," Myka told her. "Pete, wake up."

She heard bricks scraping and glanced back. Claudia walked into the room from the Warehouse office, her messenger bag with her laptop slung over her shoulder.

"After what happened in the Warehouse, I thought I might be needed here," Claudia explained to everyone.

"What happened in the Warehouse?" Artie asked.

Claudia leaned in, whispering to him.

Myka focused on Pete. She continued shaking his shoulder until he looked at her. She asked, "Pete, what is the genie's name?"

Claudia stopped whispering and stared. Artie slowly turned his head, staring at Pete. The room held its breath, waiting to see if he was going to give an answer.

"Genna," he whispered.

"Genna. Okay. Does she have a last name?"

He barely nodded twice. "Lemieux. She was in my fourth grade. She was a tom boy and we just followed her around because she was cool." Pete's voice began to fade as he started to drift away. "One time, she got mad at this girl in class, and—"

"Pete, where is Genna. Where is the genie now?"

Pete didn't answer. She shook his shoulder until he looked at her.

"Where is Genna now?"

"Iquitos. She was climbing when I flew."

Myka ignored the part that didn't make sense. "Where is Iquitos?"

"I was flying when she fell." His eyes closed and he was drifting away again.

"Pete, look at me. I need you to stay with me just a little longer, okay?"

A slow nod.

"Pete, is Genna in your nightmares? The ones that are keeping you up all night?"

A slow nod.

"Is Genna the one who is really hurt, Pete?"

Another nod.

"Okay." Myka smiled, laying her hand on the side of his face. "That's all the questions. You can sleep now."

He did just that.

Myka's old, suppressed memories, made her feel guilty. If she hadn't wished to protect the people she cared about, he never would have met Genna, his bug of justice never would have bitten him, he wouldn't have freed her, and they would not be bound.

"I found her," Claudia said.

Myka turned. All eyes went from Myka to Claudia. She was sitting in a chair by the wall with her laptop out, watching her monitor as her fingers flew across the keys.

"Where is she?" Myka asked.

Claudia turned the monitor around to show Myka. She shook a finger at the webpage displayed.

"That logo…"

"That's Vesta Plastics outside of Univille," Artie said.

"She's there?"

"She works there." Claudia tapped the photograph.

Myka had flashes of the genie turning into the young face in the photograph. She saw her curled on Pete's lap and he was saying something to the girl that Myka couldn't hear.

"She's the genie."

"Not according to this," Claudia turned the monitor back to her. "She's Genna Lemieux, twenty-two. She's been CFO for eight months."

"You and Pete were in Seattle nine months ago," Artie commented.

"Yeah. And…"Claudia paused. "According to her calendar she's on vacation. Ah. A flight confirmation email. Don't even want to know how she paid for this trip! Okay, she checked in for her flight that left Rapid City a week ago and landed in Lima, Peru. She rented a car in Lima and checked into a hotel in Iquitos, Peru. She's still checked in there but her flight left yesterday." Claudia did some more typing. "Genna never boarded that flight and her card is still being charged for the room." She looked up. "She's somewhere in Peru."

Artie told her. "Book the next flight down there, go get Steve – he and Leena went to the cafeteria – and go find this girl."

"On it," Claudia said. Her fingers raced across the keyboard. She jumped up, grabbed her bag, and dashed out of the room. Artie turned to Myka. The two stared at each other.

"We'll talk about this later. Don't leave the teapot sitting out." He walked out of the room.

Vanessa stood for a moment before following him out. Myka started to turn around.

"Thank you, Myka," Jane said.

She turned to Jane. "For what?"

"Artie and Leena told me about how Pete has been acting lately, and that they thought he'd started drinking again. Thank you for being his partner and sticking with him."

Myka turned away. Jane didn't know she almost hadn't. Perhaps it was the unconscious memories that convinced her to trust Pete. She just hoped it was soon enough.


	5. Chapter 5

_Chapter 5_

The bus full of people and livestock rumbled to a stop in the center of town. People flowed off of it, including Claudia. She had never been to Peru and was convinced she never wanted to come back. Lima and Iquitos hadn't been bad, but as she followed Genna's trail into the jungle, she was convinced this is a place she never, ever wanted to return.

Claudia walked up to a woman and asked for directions to the clinic. The woman pointed as she gave them. Claudia walked through the rutted dirt streets until she saw a faded sign with the notable Clinicá on it. She entered. The waiting area was full of sick and injured. A rotund woman sat behind the front desk. Claudia walked up and spoke to her. It took her several attempts to find out if there was a sick woman with abdomen pains there. Luckily, HIPA had not reached Ecuador and the might Benjamin was what it took to get answers. The woman there pointed to the house where the sick stayed, el hospital.

Claudia followed the directions up the street to this house. She walked in, past a man with a machine gun. He eyed her as their paths crossed but didn't stop her. She turned at the first door and stared. The room was jammed with cots. There was barely enough room for the one nurse to get between beds. Claudia searched the room and didn't find Genna. She tried the next room with no luck. In the third room, she found her. She was on a cot in the corner, half in the fetal position. She was pale and sweating. Claudia squeezed between the beds and sat down next to her. She saw a bowl of dirty water with a dirty rag nearby. She scrunched her face but picked up the rag and wrung it out, then laid it on Genna's head. She could feel the young woman's fever on her hand. Claudia moved her hand down to her abdomen and lifted Genna's shirt. There was no physical wound, but her stomach was extended. Something was definitely wrong.

"Relative of yours?" someone asked.

She turned. A man in a suit stood at the end of the bed. He was tall and thin, with defined features that made him ruggedly handsome. Two men with shotguns stood behind him.

"Yes."

"She is very ill. The nearest hospital is a day away but she needs to be there instead."

Claudia smiled. "I'll take any help I can get, thank you. Can we leave—"

"It is three thousand just to get her out of the hospital. Four thousand for the vehicle, and another four thousand for the trip."

Claudia did a quick conversion of US currency to pesos. "I have six thousand of it on me now. I can give you the rest when we get to someplace with an ATM or bank."

He smiled. He had several rotting teeth.

"US dollars, little one."

Claudia's heart sank. "What?"

"Eleven thousand in US dollars."

"I don't have that."

"That is a shame. She is a lovely woman. Perhaps you should come back tomorrow when you have more money." He motioned to one of the men.

One came forward and grabbed Claudia's arm.

"Hey! Let me stay with her at least! She's unconscious, it's not like we're running anywhere. I can make some phone calls. Just let me stay! Let me – Go!"

She pulled away on the steps of the house and stumbled down them into the street, in front of a car. Claudia quickly hopped back to avoid being hit. She turned. The man had taken a position in front of the house.

She spun around and walked around a street corner. Once around she flattened against the wall and moved to the edge so she could see the house. She pulled the Farnsworth from her pocket and tapped the call button. Artie appeared.

"I found her. We have a problem." Claudia looked at him. "You know that muscle you thought we might need when we found her?"

Artie's face tensed with his anger. "Find a place to stay out of sight for two hours. I'll contact you with coordinates." And Artie was gone.

Claudia smirked when she glanced back at the hospital. "Suckers." She headed down the street to look for a good place to lie low for a few hours.

#

Miguel was startled when the door of his dining room burst open.

In Spanish his guard told him, "The hospital is being raided by Americans!"

He leapt to his feet and ran out, followed by his guard. They got to the hospital as two American soldiers came out of the door with a gurney and the girl the young woman had come for the day before. Soldiers kept weapons trained on his guards as they moved across the street toward the helicopter waiting in an intersection free of electrical wires.

Miguel ordered his men to stand down. The girl wasn't worth losing men over. They loaded the girl but the other soldiers didn't get on right away. From out of the helicopter came the girl's visitor from the day before. Under guard of four soldiers and the helicopter machine gun, she walked to the middle of the street in front of the hospital and sat a silver briefcase on the street. The group returned to the helicopter and it lifted off.

Miguel stared at the metal briefcase she'd left in the street. For several minutes nothing happened. He motioned one of his men to it. The men hesitated, but eventually walked out to it. He poked it with his rifle. Nothing happened. He crouched on a knee, prepared to leap away, and lowered it to the ground. He popped the latches open and lifted the lid. He rose and backed away.

"It's money."

Miguel walked up to the case and found a small stack of U.S. one hundred bills sitting in it. Taped to the stack was a folded note. He picked it up and opened the note. Handwritten on the note was:

Here is two thousand. Next time, agree to my terms and treat me nicer. I would have paid you five thousand, but you made me break a nail, asshole.

Miguel couldn't be mad. Perhaps it wasn't six thousand, but at least this girl was fair. And after all, his man did break her fingernail.

#

Pete woke slowly, trying to pull free from the fog in his head. He stared at the ceiling for a long time before he realized his pain wasn't nearly as bad and that he didn't feel like he was suffocating in a furnace. He turned his head. There was a water bottle sitting on the bedside table. He reached for it but let out a grunt when his side started hurting more. He let his arm drift back onto the bed, staring longingly at the water bottle.

Myka appeared out of nowhere. She put a straw in the bottle, bent the end, and lowered it to his lips. He drank the entire bottle.

"More?" she asked.

He shook his head. She sat the water bottle down.

"I feel awful," he told her.

"You look awful. Need a shower, you're scruffy looking, need a shave, hair combed, running around in in a dress with no back… I couldn't stand living like this!"

Myka smiled and Pete returned it. If she was joking with him, it meant he was getting better.

"I'm okay?" he asked.

"You're short a kidney, but yeah, you're okay."

"What happened to my kidney?"

"Do you still remember releasing Genna from the teapot?"

"Yeah. That and then some."

"You did it without a tawiz amulet and you two are bound. What happens to one of you, happens to the other."

What Genna told him suddenly made sense. "Like conjoined twins."

"We'll say that. It turns out that while you were tackling an artifact thief, she was climbing a mountain. When you ate cement with the guy, it caused her to lose her grip and fall. She broke several right ribs, two of which punctured her kidney. When they opened her in surgery she had internal bleeding and her kidney had gone sepsis. They removed it and then your kidney failed. Luckily Vanessa suspected that was going to happen and had you in a surgery room when they took out Genna's."

"Is Gena here?"

"No. She's in Iquitos, Peru. Claudia is staying with her until she can fly back to South Dakota."

"She can't go back in the teapot."

"You get to go home in four days, Pete. We can talk about it then."

"Please, you have to convince the Regents not to put her back in the teapot."

She offered a tight smile. "You almost died, Pete. I am not going to argue for her to—"

"I was in a prison in Iraq for six months and they put me in a hole," Pete told her.

Myka's words froze on her open lips.

"When Genna and I meet in our dreams, we meet in that damned teapot. It's dark, the floor is cold and gray, and in the darkness, there is… something in there with us. That doesn't matter, but it reminds me of that hole. If you put her back in the teapot, make her stay there, I think she'll lose it, and then I'll lose it. Please, don't put her back in there."

Myka had watched Pete's EKG monitor show a steady rise in his heart rate. It was nearing the warning line. She heard his breathing grow shallow. This memory he had was terrifying him. She leaned over, laying a hand on his head, and nodded.

"Okay. Now get some sleep."

Pete obeyed. When the EKG monitor was back to normal, she returned to her recliner.

Artie sat in the chair next to it, reading a newspaper.

"You were so adamant," Artie said.

"About what?"

"Putting her back in the teapot."

Myka looked at her hands. She rubbed one palm with her thumb.

"And you still are, I see."

She looked at Artie. "Was Pete in an Iraqi prison?"

Artie nodded.

"He never talks about what happened to him in the military."

"I imagine things happened that he doesn't care to remember."

Myka nodded.

Artie sat his paper aside. "Okay. It's time I remembered what happened while you two were in Seattle."

Myka reached in her bag beside the chair and pulled the teapot out. She watched Artie put his glasses in his shirt pocket and shift in his chair until he was comfortable.

"This is going to hurt," Myka warned.

"I'm ready for it."

Myka held the teapot out in front of him. Artie stared, as if he were having second thoughts.

"She can't go back in this thing, Myka," Artie said.

"He's safer if she does."

Artie looked at her. "Their bond turned them into artifacts, but as long as they have each other to balance it out, they may just have a chance to survive. But if that woman loses herself in this teapot, we will lose Pete. Do you understand that?"

Myka looked at the teapot. "It's not really my decision, is it?"

"No. Not really mine either."

She looked at him. "Grab the teapot and hold on tight."

Artie reached up, hesitated, and then latched onto the teapot with both hands. He gasped as his irises expanded and lost memories were forcibly returned.


End file.
